


The Last Man Standing

by Amymel86



Series: Jonsa Smut Week [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 40 day and 40 nights inspired, Blow Job, Dry Humping, F/M, Sort Of, how long COULD a man go without sex or masturbation?, lots of references to jon having an erection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-05 03:12:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12785703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/pseuds/Amymel86
Summary: Living above a pub means that Robb, Theon and Jon have all racked up hefty bar tabs - so who are any of them to refuse a bet where the winner's tab is completely paid off?The terms? The guy who can last the longest without sex or masturbation wins.But of course, Theon's not above cheating....why else would he enlist the help of Jon's life long crush to come and parade around in floaty summer dresses?





	The Last Man Standing

**Author's Note:**

> DAY1 of SMUUUUUUT WEEK: Teasing ;-)

“All men are not the same” Jon said with finality before taking a glug from his beer bottle. “I could last much longer than both you and Greyjoy combined.” He set his drink down on the dark wood table of the pub and picked up a beer-matt to idly fiddle with as he watched his life long best friend take aim at the dart board.

“Bollocks” Robb retorted, throwing his final dart with flair and grinning at his score.

Jon stepped up to the oche and outstretched his arm to aim his first dart “you don’t think I could last longer than Theon?” he asked incredulously as his shot made a soft 'thunk' sound as it embedded itself into the board.

“Oh yeah” Robb chuckled between swigs from his beer bottle “but that’s no mean feat, the man would hump anything with a pulse and could have a wank reading the phone book.”

Jon snorted and threw a dart.

“Who’s wanking over the phone book?” Yara asked breezily as she brought over three fresh beers and gathered their empties, artfully grasping numerous bottles and glasses in her hands.

“Your brother” both Jon and Robb replied in unison.

Yara shrugged before heading back behind the bar of the pub that she owned, calling out a nonchalant "figures" back at them over her shoulder.

The Kraken pub was not one of the classiest establishments in town, what with its beer soaked carpets, old creaky floorboards and sticky tables, but it was home - ‘home’ being the flat above the bar that Jon, Robb and Theon rented from Yara. It wasn’t much, but who could resist a fully stocked pub directly downstairs, complete with all the pool and darts one could play?

“Alright, who’s ready for a proper good hammering?!” Theon announced loudly as he practically burst out of the gent’s toilets before performing some pelvic thrust movements against a chair.

Robb shook his head and turned to Jon. “See what I mean?”

Jon snorted as Theon swaggered up to them, swiping his own darts from their table. “What?” He looked between them both “I’m gonna kick both your asses - just you watch!” 

"You have a valid point Stark" Jon said, crossing his arms over his chest before tipping his head towards Theon "but Greyjoy here _is_ particularly competitive and I reckon if he put his mind to it-"

Theon's brow creased in confusion "What are you yappin' on about Snow?" 

"Stark reckons that no man could go more than a month without sex-" Theon glanced at the ceiling in contemplation of this hypethetical situation, tapping the flights of his darts to his lips before Jon finished his explanation "-or jerking off."

"He's right" Greyjoy answered instantly. "Can't be done. Biologically impossible. Could go to a week at most."

Jon sat and choked on his drink " _A week?!_ You couldn't last longer than a week?!"

"Naaah....my balls would swell up....it would be like having a space hopper between my legs."

"That's-......you are aware that's not how it works, right?....Biologically speaking?"

Robb leant on Jon's shoulder with a pat of his hand as he sat down next to him with a smile and glint in his eye. "Alright then lads, care to make this interesting?" There was a break in the pub's background music as the tracks changed. Robb glanced around the practically empty establishment before licking his lips eagerly and leaning his forearm on the table between them all. "No sex, no tuggin' one off - first one that does, settles the ‘last man standing's’ bar tab with Yara."

* * *

 

“Is this entirely necessary?” Jon asked as he stood to the side wearing nothing but his boxers and his glasses, his hair all askew from just waking up.

Theon came to lean his shoulder on the doorframe of Jon’s still dark bedroom, bowl of cereal in hand as he pointed a spoon at his flatmates. His words somehow made it past his mouthful of breakfast. “Listen, if he’s doing this to me, he’s doing it to you too, and later we’ll inspect his sheets as well.”

Jon pushed his fingers up under his glasses to attempt to wipe the sleep and confusion from his eyes. “Why do you even have a UV blacklight Stark?”

“Got it cheap off eBay” Robb mumbled distractedly as he continued to pass the eerie blue light over Jon’s bedsheets. “All clear” he declared, straightening up and turning off the torch.

“Ridiculous” Jon muttered as he threw back his heavy black out curtains, the sudden influx of light making his eyes squint in painful protest.

"You know" Theon started, his mouth still partly occupied with chewing "any one of us could just do the knuckle shuffle in the shower and the others would be none-the-wiser." He swallowed and waved his spoon around in a circular motion "all the evidence would be quite literally washed away." He shoved another spoonful of cereal in his mouth, his next words barely understandable "so all this is completely unnecessary."

"Fine" Robb grumbled as he barged past Theon in the doorway, calling back as he stomped grumpily to his bedroom "neither of you better be doing that though!" Both Jon and theon flinched when he slammed his door, only to yank it open again and shout "COMPLETE HONESTY! I WANT COMPLETE HONESTY FROM THE BOTH OF YOU!!" The door slammed once more, making a picture frame drop to the floor in the hallway.

Jon scrunched his nose and furrowed his brow "what's all that about?"

"It's been 8 days" Theon shrugged, his attention on the contents of the bowl in his hands. He glanced up to see Jon's expression still riddled with confusion. "Look, we don't all have the sex drive of a potato like you, Snow....seems like 'big Robbie' gets a bit grouchy if ‘Little Robbie’ doesn’t get a any attention” he explained.

"Suits me" Jon shrugged "just means that I'll be the _'last man standing'_ and my 120 Dragon bar tab that your sister keeps dangling over my head will be wiped out."

"What makes you think you'll be the last man standing, Snow?"

Jon dismissed the glint in Theon's eye and the knowing smirk about his lips. He put it down to Theon's usual unfounded cockiness - he shouldn't have.

* * *

 

It was late morning on a Saturday as Jon stumbled out of his room, clad in only his boxers, his head in need of coffee and some aspirin after last night's session downstairs. He was pretty sure that Robb was going to be the first to lose the bet (judging by the way he whimpered when barmaid, Ros bent over the pool table to take her shot) and Greyjoy won't be long behind - so what's a few more Dragons added to his bar tab?

"Oh, hello Jon" came a sweet, perky voice. Jon yelped and cupped himself with both hands. He fought the urge to rub his eyes as he momentarily wondered if his lack of 'release' this past week was causing him to see things. Because there - _right there, on their couch_ \- was a girl. Not just any girl though, _oh no_ , perched prettily in a floaty yellow sundress was _Sansa-fucking-Stark_ , Jon’s pretty much life-long crush - sitting there with her long slender legs crossed, looking all cute and sexy at the same time. 

Jon gulped and nodded, hoping his voice would sound nonchalant once he manages to actually force some words out. His wish was in vain. “Sansa” he croaks “wh-what are you doing here? I mean, not-not that it’s not nice to see you and all but-“ Jon’s babbling fades as he only now notices Theon sat in the armchair with the look of smug satisfaction on his face.

_Shit_.

”My landlord is doing some refurb work on my apartment” Sansa explains “I was going to stay at Arya’s but Theon invited me to crash here.”

”Oh did he now?” Jon scowled at his roommate.

”Yeah, well your place is closer to Uni so Theon thought it would be more convenient for me.”

”Hmm...yeah, convenient” Jon muttered as he continued to throw Greyjoy some ‘murder eyes’.

”Unless that’s a problem?...” Sansa asked, her gaze bouncing back between the two men as she noticed the tension between them. “I can call Arya if you don’t want me h-“

”NO! No, Gods! Sansa, I want you-“ Jon backtracked, realising what his demeanour must have seemed like to her. 

“I bet you do” Theon sniggered. Jon chose to ignore him for the time being and managed to tamper down the panic in his brain that was screaming _‘when did Greyjoy work it out’?_ He ran a hand through his messy curls. “Sorry, I just woke up and have the mother of all headaches. Of course you’re welcome to stay, Sansa.”

"Great!" She chirped, bounding up off of the sofa and leaning in to place a soft kiss on his cheek. His eyes fall closed, his muscles tense as he inhales her perfume. "Thank you, Jon" Sansa says, smiling that smile that twists his gut in knots. Her eyes flit momentarily down to his bare chest and Jon can feel himself begin to grow hard under his cupped hands.

"Yeah! Great!" He flusters with nervous laughter. Jon soon finds out that it's not _'great'_ at all.

* * *

 

Two days. Sansa had only been with them for _two fucking days_ and Jon was already losing his mind over her. 

Theon - _the shit-_  had admitted to him that he'd guessed that Jon had the hots for Robb's sister (at least that's all he suspects) and was not above using her presence to nudge Jon closer and closer to _'taking things in hand'_.

Sansa seemed to be oblivious to Theon's plans but Jon couldn't help but wonder if she knew how her scent teased him or how her smile tempted him, or how he was impossibly hard _all the fucking time._

On the third day Jon awoke with his hand already beginning to stroke himself as he sleepily mumbled her name. He leapt out of bed and bolted towards the bathroom to dowse himself with cold water.

He will _not_ lose this bet to Theon fucking Greyjoy.

Jon grumbled as he wandered into the lounge. Sansa was sat in nothing but little denim shorts and a tank top. Jon's eyes raked hungrily up her long milky legs to where she was fanning herself with her hand. "It’s  _so_ _hot_ in here!" she groused "is it always this hot in here?"

Jon paused, momentarily reigning in the thoughts on other ways in which he’d like to get Sansa all hot and bothered. It _was_ remarkably warm. He backtracked into the hallway to the thermostat to find that it had been turned right up.

_Theon,_ Jon thought murderously. He turned the dial back down to a more reasonable temperature. It was no good though, the damage already done. Now the image of a scantily clad Sansa, all hot and dewy with sweat was replaying over and over in his head.

As the days went on, things got worse. Theon ( _the utter prick_ ) started offering Sansa foods like bananas or popsicles - and if the phallic shaped goods weren't bad enough, then came the juicy fruits. Sansa would chase the nectar from the corner of her lips with her tongue and then suck her fingers clean in an innocently seductive manner. Jon just about lost it when Theon offered her her favoured lemoncakes and each bite was accompanied with a sinful moan of appreciation - Theon smirking knowingly in the background as Jon near enough drooled all over himself.

A few days later and Yara was begrudgingly hosting her monthly karaoke night in the pub. It’s just about the only time when it can be guaranteed to be busy with patrons packed in nearly every table, booth and standing space. Sansa was naturally excited and pleaded with Jon to come down with her, Robb and Theon. 

Barely two hours and many more Dragons added to all of their bar tabs later, and a tipsy Sansa is swaying along to a horrific rendition of ‘Summer Nights’ from Grease before Theon practically herds her towards Jon.

”Sit and drink some water Sans, I think you’ve had enough of the strong stuff for tonight.”

”There’s nowhere to sit” she hiccups. And before Jon has a chance to swallow his gulp of beer and stand to offer his seat, Theon practically pushes Sansa down onto his lap.

”Jon will look after you, Princess” Theon grins smugly down at the pair of them - Sansa warm and giggling with her arms wrapped around his neck, Jon helpless and hard - yet again.

Sansa fell asleep on him that night, enveloping Jon in her fragrance and softness, with her face nuzzling sleepily into the crook of his neck making little lightning bolts shoot down his spine. He carried her to the spare bedroom she was occupying and retreated to the bathroom for a cold shower.

”Better not be tugging one out in there, Snow” Theon called through the door and over the jets of water.

”Fuck off Greyjoy!”

Every day was worst than the last with Jon always aware of Sansa’s proximity. He’d started to avoid her as often as he could.

Until one evening, she confronted him about it.

Somehow, they were alone in the flat when she cornered him as he was making coffee in the kitchen, wearing one of her strappy summer camisole tops and teeny tiny torturous shorts. 

"Have I done something Jon?....Have I offended you in some way?" Sansa asks, her voice laden with genuine worry and her eyes wide and round - _and Gods, GODS!_ \- her bottom lip trembles ever so faintly. It makes Jon want to scoop her up and sooth that tremble away with his own lips and tongue. He wants to capture that tremble between his teeth and show her that _'no, no sweet, lovely girl, I'm not offended one bit! Just filled up to the brim with wants and needs and barely able to stand being in the same room as you lest I snap and lift you up over my shoulder to carry you off to my room....or the nearest flat surface.'_

Jon eyes the kitchen counter top that Sansa's leaning against and rolls his tongue over his lips. "No, Sansa...I'm not-...you haven't done anything to offend me." Hastily making his coffee, Jon contemplates bolting off to lock himself in his room but reconsiders when he sees that Sansa still looks worried. Instead, he sighs and moves to the couch. "I'm just a bit stressed at the moment, Sans. That's all."

"Stressed about what?"

"Work" he offers automatically.

Sansa visibly ponders this. She has no interest in accounts or finance Jon knows, but he can see her trying to mull it over in her head, attempting to grasp at ways in which she could help alleviate his woes - _oh_ if only she knew the ways he'd been imagining _'alleviating his woes'_ with her recently - he'd _'alleviate'_ until he was completely spent of _'woes'_ , and then _'alleviate'_  with her some more.

"Let me give you a shoulder massage" Sansa declares after a short while of thought, leaping up and coming behind him. "They're a good stress reliever and-"

"What?! No!"

_Seven Hells! If she touches me, I'm likely to spontaneously erupt - is that even possible? Not sure - Don't want to find out._

It's too late though. Jon flinches when Sansa's fingers curl around his shoulders, ignoring his protest with a tut. "You're so tense Jon! Relax!" She says right next to his ear in a voice as smooth as melted chocolate. His body yields to her demand briefly as she continues to knead and smooth his muscles, his eyelids fall closed, a moan drops from his lips and he can feel himself begin to harden, Jon immediately tenses back up again.

"I can't!"

Sansa's hands still on his shoulders. "Well, how about a head massage?" She suggests, both sets of fingers now gliding in unison up the back of his neck and spearing through his hair, causing a trickle of goose-flesh to pin princk down his spine. "I always love getting a head m-"

"No! I CAN'T! I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE!" Jon leaps up and away from her, the majority of his body protesting at the loss of contact but that one small part of his brain determined to remain in control.

Sansa stares at him, wide-eyed and hands still out in front of her where they had been nestled in his curls and _oh_ how he wants them back there, or on his shoulders again, or braced against his chest as he rutted on top of her, or digging into his arse urging on his thrusts as he- "Do what?" she squeaks faintly, making Jon hang his head in defeat.

"Your brother, Theon and I are having a bet and I can't lose to them Sansa, I just can't."

"Okay.....what's the bet?"

Clenching his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose, Jon takes in a long drag of air before explaining. "The...the one who lasts the longest without sex or....or... _touching themselves_ get's their bar tab downstairs paid off by the one who caves first."

There's silence from behind his eyelids so he cracks one eye open to see a shocked look on Sansa's face. "Okaaaay" she says slowly "and.....how long has this bet been going?"

"A little over three weeks."

Sansa scrunches her nose in confusion and it only makes Jon want her more. "That's not long at all."

"It is when you're around the woman that you lo-" Jon only just manages to swallow down _that_ word but the way Sansa's brows rise on her forehead tells him that she hadn't missed it.

_Fuck._

"What?" she breathes, a wisp of a question hanging in the air between them. Jon eyes the hallway to his room, if he sprints there now and barricades the door, perhaps- "Jon?" Sansa prompts.

"I..." he runs his hand through his hair but it didn't feel half as good as when Sansa had done it just moments ago. "Fuck" he mutters, suddenly finding the carpet beneath his feet _extremely_ interesting.

Sansa is no longer behind the couch but stood beside him. "Jon?" she urges again, placing a hand on his forearm - for comfort, he thinks, although it feels like a searing brand at the moment and he yearns to do one of two things - either flinch away abruptly, or throw her down on the sofa so he can fuck her into the cushions. It pains him that all he can really do is stand there like a fool, all the while knowing that Sansa will get answers out of him - answers that he'd hoped would stay hidden and buried somewhere deep within his chest. He licks his lips and continues to stare at where her hand rests lightly on his arm. _If I look up at her eyes, I'll be a goner._ "Jon, sit back down please."

He hadn't really heard her, his ears still ringing with that unsaid word that almost escaped. So it was a bit of a surprise when she shoved him down to the couch, his arse landing rather ungracefully and the air whooshing from his lungs. But then - _then_ \- she straddled him and he was at last forced to look into her summer sky eyes. A rather primal groan left him when her legs bracketed his, her core nestled up against his hardness and her hands braced themselves on his shoulders. His own hands flew of their own accord to her bare thighs where they grasped at her flesh like an anchor to the here and now.

She peered down at his face, capturing him in the depths of her searching eyes. "What were you about to say, Jon?" He groaned yet again, this one sounding more pained and resigned than the last as he let his head fall against the back of the couch. Sansa moved so that her face hovered above his, a curtain of red hair fell forwards and brushed the side of his cheek, it felt like cool silk against his flushed skin. He screwed his eyes shut and began to hope and pray for that tiny probability that the feelings that he's harboured for his best friend's little sister might just be reciprocated. Even if there was just a small chance, a minor possibility that-

"If you say it....I'll say it back." 

"What?" His eyes flew open and all he could see was _her_. 

"If you say it, I'll say it back.....and I'll mean it."

"Really?" he rasped. Sansa nodded as she speared her fingers through his hair and pressed her lips to his for a series of small kisses. "I love you" he mumbled against her lips. He could feel her grin into his kisses.

"Pardon?" she teased, rolling her hips to grind down on him, making Jon suck in a breath harshly over his teeth. "I didn't quite catch that" Sansa giggled.

Jon smiled widely at her as his hands skimmed up her smooth legs to lay claim to her ass with a squeeze. "You heard me" he grinned.

"Mmmm...I love you too" Sansa crooned between nipping at Jon's lips "have done since we were in High School." 

" _Christ_ " he hisses, both at the realisation of time lost between them and at the way Sansa is rubbing against him, her pelvis rocking over Jon's straining cock, making his own hips involuntarily buck up into her a time or two. "If you carry on like that Sans, I’m gonna make a mess."

Sansa continues her grinding and carding her finger through his hair. "Poor baby" she cooed, kissing him tenderly "has it been terribly _hard_ for you?" 

Jon's head falls back with a whimper as Sansa's lips and tongue start paying attention to his neck, all the while her hot centre rubbing over his jeans. " _So fucking hard_ " he admits in a strained voice with his eyes closed as his hands grasp her ass cheeks and move along with her rolling hips.

"Mmmmm....I can feel how hard it is for you, baby."

"Well, well well, what do we have here?" Came the abrupt voice from the lounge doorway. Both Sansa and Jon jumped out of their skins, although they stayed within each other's arms.

"Greyjoy!" Jon growled.

"You know, I invited Sansa to stay in the hopes that you'd just get too hot and bothered to deny yourself a wank - I didn't anticipate-" he paused to wave a hand at the two of them nestled together on the couch "-this."

"Fuck. Off. Greyjoy" Jon hissed, his hands flexing against Sansa's behind.

Theon let out a low whistle as he leant his shoulder against the door-frame. "The bigger Stark is _not_ going to like this."

"He'll get over it" Sansa said "Jon loves me, and I love him."

"Gross."

Sansa sat up straight on Jon's lap at that. "No, you know what _is_ gross? Your stupid bet" she waves a finger at both of them. "Men! Men are gross! You should all be rounded up and deposited on a desert island somewhere in the middle of the ocean where you can have silly little wanking bets together." Jon's eyes turn round and pleading as he pouts up at her making her lips twitch into a smirk. "Except for this one" Sansa sinks back down, running her fingers through his hair again and kissing away his pout. "I'll keep this one" she purrs.

Sansa's hips start riding him again making Jon moan into her mouth until Theon pointedly coughs to remind them that he is in fact, still there. "I hope your bank balance is healthy Snow, I've built up _quite the tab_ downstairs....thanks in advance for clearing it for me" he beams a big cheesy grin at them both.

"I haven't cum" Jon blurts, his red face suddenly getting much redder.

"Uh-huh" Theon nods and crosses his arms "doesn't look like you're far off though, Snowy boy."

"Wait, wait, wait...does this even count?" Sansa asks. "You said sex or masturbating....this is neither" she bucks her hips for emphasis pulling a hiss from Jon as she does.

"Listen, I don't care how he fucking does it - if ya man here blows his load, it's game over - he's out."

Sansa brings her attention back to Jon, peppering his lips and beard with little kisses. "Well that seems rather unfair" she murmurs.

"So unfair" Jon whines in return with his eyes shut tight as his hands urge her to continue riding him. Neither of them notice Theon shake his head and disappear into his room.

Sansa carries on her movements for a while as they kiss noisily and moan together. Jon's can feel the tightness of impending release building as he listens to Sansa's mewls of pleasure. He distantly thinks that if he _is_ going to lose this stupid bet, then why the fuck are they still clothed? Why are they still on the couch? Why hasn't he got Sansa's long legs wrapped around his hips like a vice as he pounds into her? But all that would involve some form of stopping _this_ , so he says nothing and just goes with it, even if he hasn't partaken in _'dry humping'_ since he was 17.

Sansa licks a wet stripe up the tendon in his neck and pauses right next to Jon's ear to whisper "Do you want to cum, Jon?" He's about to nod vigorously in confirmation when a booming laugh comes through the wall from Theon's room.

"Looks like you're off the hook Snow!" Theon shouts gleefully "Stark just text me, he's out of the game!"

"What?" Jon calls back.

"Him and Ros just fucked on the pool table downstairs"

"Eww-" Sansa's noise of disgust gets cut short when Jon abruptly lifts her, making her squeal and clutch onto him as he carries her to his room. Placing her down on his bed, he swiftly pulls his shirt over his head as Sansa giggles up at him. "Don't you want to win the bet?" She asks as Jon is hopping on one foot while he tries to be rid of his jeans without tripping over.

"I honestly don't care. I just want you."

He's about to come over to dive onto her, when Sansa gets up from his bed and saunters over to him. He lunges for her lips like a man starved but after a brief moment she urges him back with a firm hand against his chest.

"Let me take care of you" she explains in a sultry whisper at the question on his face before she sinks to her knees before him and starts tugging his boxers down. "Poor baby needs some relief."

Sansa takes his aching cock in her hand making Jon's blood roar in his ears as she somehow manages to look up at him with innocent eyes _and_ a filthy smile. "Isn't that right, Jon? Would you like to cum?" She asks while pumping his cock. Jon wets his lips and then bites down on the lower one as he nods out a pleading whimper. His hips buck when Sansa swipes her tongue up the underside of him, following the vein from root to tip and then covering the head with her warm wet mouth. She sucks lightly and then releases him to repeat the action a couple more times with a satisfied hum each time.

" _Fuck,_ Sansa, I'm _really_ not gonna last very long" Jon pants, looking down and watching himself disappear into her welcoming mouth as she starts to bob her head, all the while her bright blue eyes looking up at him. _"Christ"_ he groans. Sansa's finger tips start ghosting up and down his thigh muscles, encouraging, teasing, chasing that feeling of near release. It's both delicious bliss and torture all at once. 

Releasing his cock with a pop from her swollen lips, Sansa starts pumping him again. "Cum for me, baby" she purrs, before opening her mouth and resting the tip of him on her tongue.

Her other hand comes up to cradle and stroke his balls and that does it. "Aaaanh _...Fuck!_ " Jon strains and grunts, the image of Sansa jacking him off into her waiting open mouth searing itself into the inside of his brain. He catches a glimpse of the first pulse of his release coating her tongue before the force of his long overdue orgasm causes his eyes to clamp shut. He nearly doubles over from the intensity of the burst of pleasure. Sansa closes her lips over him again, taking him in, licking and sucking, until all he can feel is the heat of her mouth around him and nothing else.

When he finally opens his eyes again he's sweaty and panting. Sansa peers up at him with a smile from her kneeling position, her lips are swollen and there's a small trickle of his cum at the corner of her mouth. Jon groans at the sight. Her hair is dishevelled as if he'd pawed at it - he's not quite sure whether he did or not. _"Holy fuck!"_  Jon panted, stretching out an arm behind him to blindly find his desk so he can steady himself. "Don't-" he takes a gulp of air "please don't take _that_ as any kind of indication for my normal endurance or stamina." Sansa laughs and Jon can't help but smile at the lovely sound of it. "I mean,...kudos to you....that was a blinding performance on your end, but ah-" he pauses for breath "I'm not normally so....uhh...desperate to finish."

Sansa shakes her head with a smile. "It's only been three weeks, Jon" she says, gathering up the evidence of his release that escaped her mouth with the flat of her thumb, and then sucking it clean.

Jon's a bit dazed by watching the action but managed to come back to his senses with a shake of his head. "And you've been here teasing me for two of those three weeks."

"Are you saying that I make you desperate, Jon?"

"You could say that, yeah."

There's a sudden knock at door that makes them both jump. "Has he bust a nut yet?" asked Theon through the wood. Sansa bites on her lip to keep from laughing.

"Fuck off Greyjoy!"

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes" Sansa chuckles behind her hand.

"FUCK YEAH!!! LAST MAN STANDING!! LAST MAN STANDING!!" Theon chants loudly. "Thank you Sansa, you little minx you! Woooooo!!"

Jon and Sansa burst into laughter as they listen to Theon crashing about the flat, continuing to whoop at his victory. All laughter freezes however when they hear the front door open and close, some murmured talking and then the very clear voice of Robb.

"What do you mean Jon's out of the bet?"

_Please just say I had a wank. Please just say I had a wank_ , Jon chants in whispers with his eyes closed.

”Well-“ they both hear Theon say as Jon and Sansa stare at each other whilst holding their breaths. “Your sister-“

_Shit!_  

 

 

 

 


End file.
